And so I did!
I read Keat’s poem, in 42 Spencerian stanzas. It is all very romantic and torrid and lush, with marvelous moments and imagery. It is imbued with the revival of romantic, courtly love which was coming back into vogue in the early 19th century. The poem takes inspiration in part from a superstition, which I explain in an introduction.
The Eve of St Agnes would inspire the Pre-Raphaelites, as a matter of fact. One of their circle, was Christina Rossetti, a poet in her own right.
Christina Rossetti wrote a poem which later was made into a Christmas carol: In the Bleak Midwinter. We are still within the Christmas cycle until Candlemas, after all.
There it is.